


You'll sleep here, I'd sleep there

by ADyingFlower



Series: I'm only doing this because I love you [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dark Keith (Voltron), Kidnapping, M/M, Obsession, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-19 16:26:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17604842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADyingFlower/pseuds/ADyingFlower
Summary: It’s almost been a month of the ice creeping into his veins deeper every moment before he finally meets who he thinks is the one.Younger than him, but not by too much. Brash, excitable, loud. Warm.He can’t afford to be wrong. They’re going to be stuck together until one of them dies, so he can’t mess up on being hasty. Keith watches and waits, investing money into a high quality camera. At first, he just takes small things - a shirt left in the laundromat, the rest of a soda abandoned on the coffee shop table, a pen absently chewed on in a church youth meeting.When he realizes the previous idle interest has blown into a full blown obsession, that’s when he knows he found the one.Lance McClain, he mouths to himself with a giddy smile. He found the boy he wants to spend the rest of his life with.(The beginning of the end)





	You'll sleep here, I'd sleep there

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Imogen Heap's "Goodnight and Go" and the partial inspiration behind this series. Please take caution when reading this series, it's not a light one. 
> 
> 1/12

Here’s the thing: Keith’s lonely.

So terribly alone that his bones ache down to the marrow, rotting, splintering beneath his skin. It’s the thing that makes his breath fog up into a desolate silence that eats away at his organs.

He tried, at first, to remedy that the way the library internet said he should. But small talk even with the gas station cashier wasn’t enough at this point. Keith tried adopting a cat at another point, but the squirrelly thing ran out the back door one day into the desolate desert surrounding his father’s shack, and the next night he could hear the coyotes howling.

So he tries, at first, to do things ‘normal’ people would do to abate the loneliness. But it’s not enough. It’s never enough.

Then he gets desperate for something, _someone_. Desperate enough to do something potentially stupid. As in ‘if he gets caught he’ll be jail for the rest of his natural life’ level of stupid.

But Keith needs _somebody_. Needs the presence of another warm body, of the sound of someone else's laughing voice in his sacred place. It’s not romantic as much as it is desperate.

And as everyone knows, desperation can drive even the most sane of men to do anything.

-

Keith starts stalking bars, restaurants, coffee shops. All his savings over the past decade dry up faster than he can blink, but it’s worth it, it’ll be so worth it.

At first, he aims for kids, but then switches his attention to a more older crowd once he realizes that he has no idea how to raise one, and that there’s always some kind of eye on them at all times. Yet at the same time, he doesn’t want anybody older than him, or even the same age as him. He’s taken everyone necessary precaution that he can think of, but he’s not taking the risk of someone out smarting him.

It’s almost been a month of the ice creeping into his veins deeper every moment before he finally meets who he thinks is the one.

Younger than him, but not by too much. Brash, excitable, loud. Warm.

He can’t afford to be wrong. They’re going to be stuck together until one of them dies, so he can’t mess up on being hasty. Keith watches and waits, investing money into a high quality camera. At first, he just takes small things - a shirt left in the laundromat, the rest of a soda abandoned on the coffee shop table, a pen absently chewed on in a church youth meeting.

When he realizes the previous idle interest has blown into a full blown obsession, that’s when he knows he found the one.

Lance McClain, he mouths to himself with a giddy smile. He found the boy he wants to spend the rest of his life with.

It’s a simple enough plan to catch him, but his nerves are at an all time high as he drives up to the Quintessence. He’s not a fan of clubs personally, but Lance loves sneaking into them with his best friends.

Doesn’t he know how dangerous that is? He could get arrested and get kicked out of school for it. Silly boy.

He shows the bouncer his ID and gets ushered in with no problems. Unlike Lance, he actually was old enough to get in bars, and looked it as well. Lance could pass as a middle schooler with enough makeup and clothing choices.

It’s not a bad thing. It’s rather cute, actually. Keith wants to eat that innocence for breakfast, and he has to adjust his jeans as he travels further into the club, brushing aside dancers as he makes a beeline to the bartender.

“Two rum and coke.” He holds up his fingers to the bartender, and she gives a silent nod as she goes back to preparing the drinks.

Keith’s eyes roam the crowds around him, knowing that Lance is somewhere in here, having spotted his car earlier when he parked out back.

And sure enough, he spots the boy chatting with his two friends, their names he couldn’t care less about. If routine told him anything, than the small one would excuse themselves to one of the back rooms to play on their phone, and the bigger one would chat (or flirt) with one of the bartenders, who seemed just as into him as he was with her.

The small one leaves just a little before he gets his drinks, and the bigger one is now distracted with the aesthetically pleasing bartender. Keith dares a glance at them, and nearly jolts out of his seat when his eyes connect with Lance.

He’s coming over here. He’s coming to _him_. Lance is practically asking Keith to steal him away!

Keith fiddles with his pocket, and then Lance is sliding in the seat next to him, grinning at him with that same cocksure smile. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing out here?”

He flushed brightly, spinning the drinks in his hand before offering one to Lance. “I could - I could say the same for you.”

Lance laughs, bright and easy, yet Keith can see the predatory look in his eyes. He knows that he looks like an easy one night stand - he’s counting on it.

No one thinks the shy ones are dangerous. Not that he wants to do Lance any harm, quite the opposite, but it still works in his favor nonetheless.

The boy plucks Keith’s own glass out of his hands, ignoring the offered one to chug his down. “Want to dance?”

Keith smiles shyly into his own sips. “S-Sure.”

Lance grabs his hand and leads him to the dance floor, pressing himself intimately close to Keith’s front. Almost automatically, he grabs Lance’s hips as they grind against him, letting the younger boy lead the dance.

Yet his mind is a million miles away, imagining just the two of them in his desert shack, dancing just like this. Perhaps slower, a more gentle kind of intimacy, his head resting on Lance’s shoulder as his father’s old radio played a quietly soft beat.

So close, he muses as Lance stumbles slightly, his head swaying. And yet so far.

“I think I had too much to drink,” Lance giggles giddily, resting his arms on Keith’s shoulders. “Wanna take me out of here?”

“Of course.” Keith smiles demurely, brushing his hands over Lance’s bare arms reverently before dropping down to his jacket. “You look cold, why don’t you wear my jacket for a bit?”

“I’m not cold…” Lance slurs, his head rolling back on his neck as Keith swiftly tears his own jacket off, clumsily shoving Lance’s loose limbs into the sleeves before flipping the oversized hood up over his head.

Lance laughs a little more as Keith braces his arm over his shoulder and half drags him out of the club, giving a nod to the bouncer who only gives him a sympathetic smile at his drunk friend. Keith leads him to his red CRV, having to catch him every time he stumbles a little, but eventually they reach his car, parked all the way in the back and far away from any cameras that might have caught them.

“Wait wait wait,” Lance shoves his arms feebly against Keith, but he keeps his grip ironclad as he unlocks the car and opens up the backseat. “Something’s, something's wrong, I feel all…floaty. And stuff.”

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” Keith lies, more focused on trying to steer Lance into the backseat, who suddenly grows resistant to his efforts.

“I don’t wanna anymore, let’s go back…” Lance tries to stumble away, and Keith's tired of this. He’s waited for so long, and now Lance is _denying_ him? He latches onto the back of his offered jacket, sliding his arm to wrap around Lance’s torso and another around his waist, and then begins to forcibly shove him onto the leather seats.

“What did you…” Lance’s arms flail weakly as he’s gently laid down on backseat, Keith reaching behind him to close the door to prevent anyone from seeing him try to struggle. “What did you give me?”

“Flunitrazepam.” Keith admits, because at this point it’s not like Lance is going to remember anything. He straddles Lance’s waist, collecting the swinging wrists with one hand and the other reaching for the box of zip ties he purposely left in the seat pocket. “Also known as the date rape drug.”

Lance stills, his inhales sharp and ragged. “No no, please no I don’t want to…”

Keith raises an eyebrow as he makes swift work of tying Lance’s wrists together before comprehension hits him. “Oh, I’m not going to _rape_ you. I just want you to come back home with me without you putting up too much of a struggle.”

He slips a finger in between the bonds, tugging to make sure they’re secured like the YouTube videos taught him too. “Chloroform works nothing like it does in the movies and is more likely to kill you then knock you unconscious, and a chokehold only lasts a minute or two until you have enough oxygen again. This is the safest way, you see, Lance McClain?”

“I never…” Keith shushes the poor boy, who eyelids kept drooping more and more. He moves off Lance’s waist to gather up his knees and brace them against Lance’s chest, his hands focused on untying Lance’s shoes. Couldn’t have him using the shoelace trick, after all.

“I’ve been watching you for a while, I’ve been waiting so long for someone like you. We’re going to be so happy together, just you wait.” Shoes off, he discards them somewhere in the footwell of his car, once again grabbing another zip tie for Lance’s ankles. “That’s how I knew which drink to drug, you always grab the one not offered to you. Silly boy, trying so hard to outsmart predators. You’ve just met one smarter than yourself.”

Dropping Lance’s ankles, he leans forward to whisper the next words into Lance’s ear. “Or one more obsessed with you.”

He leans back, smiling as Lance’s eyes struggle to focus on him, sliding close before abruptly being pried back open. Lance really is the cutest.

Keith shifts Lance on his side to make him more comfortable, tenderly brushing his cheek as his other hand spreads the spare blanket he had stored earlier next to the zip ties over him. “You can go to sleep now, when you wake up you’ll be home and comfortable, I promise.”

As if his words were the last thing Lance needed, sleep finally overtakes him and drags him under. Keith wastes a few more precious minutes just watching the light of his life sleep, smiling happily at the fact that finally,  _finally_ they were together.

But duty calls. Sighing, he reaches into Lance’s pockets and grabs his phone, wallet, and keys. Typing in Lance’s password (2583, after Lance’s cat which Keith will have to retrieve sooner or later as a reward for good behavior), he flicks his way over to the group chat he has with his friends and sends out a little message to help cover his tracks.

**I’m going to head out early, just saw Nyma and her new boy toy. See you guys tomorrow!**

Of course, Lance’s ex Nyma wasn’t actually at _this_ bar, but he knew she would be bar hopping this particular Friday and be trashed enough that she probably wouldn’t remember which bars she visited.

Then he drops the phone in his open cup of coffee in the driver’s side cup holders with an exaggerated “oops”.

Of course he’ll dump the phone later in another body of water, just to be sure, but for now it’ll do.

The wallet he borrows all of Lance’s cash from and a couple of his coupons for Sephora. While he bought ahead for all of Lance’s skincare items, it wouldn’t help to have some help later on when they run dry. He slips Lance’s drivers license and fake ID in his own wallet, planning to destroy them when he gets home. By the time he’s done, Lance McClain will have never existed in the first place, only a faint memory for his family to mourn while he lives happily isolated with Keith.

He’ll move Lance’s car later with the keys, once he got Lance safely home and secured. Drive back to outer edges of the city, take a bus back to the club and drive the car into Tempe Town Lake after removing the license plate. He’s not taking any risks.

Lance and him are going to live happily together for the rest of their days. He doesn’t fool himself into thinking it’ll be easy, but all that’s needed is time and patience, and he has plenty of both.

Nothing is going to ruin their relationship. Not even Lance himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Next: Letter


End file.
